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‘Nor can I. It just came out.’ She looks chastened. ‘I mean, no-one wants to listen to anyone else’s sob story. But I don’tsuppose he’ll remember me. He was wallowing in misery, to be honest. Though I think I might have been a bit harsh.’
‘Well, he seemed upbeat enough this morning,’ I tell her. A frown crosses my face. ‘In what way were you harsh exactly?’
‘Hmm.’ She evades my gaze. ‘I kind of told him the woman was hardly the love of his life if she’d gone and cheated on him.’
I’m outraged on his behalf. ‘Do you not think that was just maybe a bit outspoken – especially given you don’t even know him?’
She looks slightly shamefaced. ‘You’re probably right. But it just kind of came out. Rae, he was doing this self-pitying, self-blaming thing… It really pissed me off. For frick’s sake, his fiancée cheated on him. And one year later, he was still sad.’
But as I know, when you lose someone you love, a year is nothing. ‘And you’re so fired up about this because?’ I ask her pointedly.
She looks taken aback. ‘From the way he spoke, it sounded like he was wasting months of his life. That’s why.’
‘Each to their own.’ I study her. ‘Are you OK? I was a bit worried about you after you left the other night.’
Her cheeks tinge with pink. ‘I’m feeling better, thanks. Sorry about that. I guess things were catching up with me.’
‘You’ve no need to be sorry,’ I say gently. ‘You have a lot on your mind.’
‘To be honest, I’m trying not to think about it.’ She changes the subject. ‘About this guy just now…’ Her eyes bore into me.
I stare at her for a moment, catching a fleeting look of desperation in her eyes, which just as quickly is gone; realising this is simply her way of coping. ‘What about him?’
She folds her arms. ‘What did he buy?’
‘A copy ofFinding the Wild in Your Life,’ I tell her, watching the smile spread across her face. ‘Why are you smiling?’
‘It’s one of your books, isn’t it? The kind you want people to find?’ She pauses. ‘Don’t ask me how I know, but I’m telling you. He’ll be back – it’s a gut feeling. And believe me, I’m never wrong about these things.’
13
JACK
On my way home, I’m deep in thought. It seems bizarre that I haven’t found the bookshop before. But then Lisa hadn’t been into books, and since we broke up, I’ve been going around mostly with my eyes closed.
I glance at the book on the passenger seat next to me. I’ve often thought that quotes, movies, even people have a way of finding you when the time is right. Maybe it’s the same with books. Flicking through the first pages, I’d known instantly it was going to resonate with me.
My mind turns to the girl in the bookshop. There’s something about her – the red hair under a multi-coloured headband, the multiple hoops in one of her ears. The way her eyes sparkle, the pink that tinges her cheeks. I stop myself. With my broken heart only now starting to heal, it will surely still be a while before I’m ready for another relationship.
But that doesn’t mean it isn’t time I started to become more proactive – to discover new places, even start revitalising my social life.
And as winter starts retreating, there are signs of hope, in the lengthening days, the first of the daffodils starting to flower,shortly to be followed by the tulips I love, while it won’t be long before the trees are burgeoning with buds of apple blossom.
After a long winter, the goats are waking up, too. For the first time in months, there’s a gleam in their eyes, while their winter coats are starting to fall away. Their sense of mischief is emerging too, and on the first properly warm morning, I oversleep to find they’ve escaped.
The first I hear of it is Gertie’s voice coming from next door. ‘Jojo. Bella.Get out…’
Pulling on jeans and a sweater, I hurry downstairs. Clambering over the fence into Gertie’s garden, I find her wielding a broom as she defends her vegetable garden.
‘Little varmints. Know exactly where to aim for, don’t they?’ she calls out.
‘I’m sorry, Gertie.’ Grabbing Bella by one of her horns, I do my best to coax her towards the bottom of the garden. Mercifully, Jojo follows, a mouthful of forget-me-nots between his lips. ‘The gate’s open,’ I call to her. ‘One of them must have unfastened it.’ I catch Jojo’s eyes and the goat blinks innocently.
Back in the garden, with the goats contained and the gate padlocked, when I go next door to apologise to Gertie, a teenage girl opens the door.
‘Hi.’ In skinny jeans and a cropped top that shows off her spray-tanned middle, she has an unnerving confidence about her.
‘Is, er, Gertie here?’
